The Legend Of Eli Monpress (75 page)

Nico clenched her fists, pressing her buzzing manacles against her skin. Without her coat she could feel the spirits all around her, easy prey, easy power. She could feel the demon inside her waking, scenting food. The spirits were beginning to wake as well, to notice what she was, and she could feel the panic growing. She couldn’t fight like this much longer, and from the look on his face, Sted knew it.

“Jump while you can,” he said, walking toward her with terrible, slow steps. “Every power you use gives me more allies. Soon, you won’t even have a place to stand.”

As if to prove him right, the boards beneath her feet began to groan, working up the courage to snap and trap her. Nico leaped before they got the chance, blinking through the dark to the air above Sted’s head. Sted just laughed and raised his sword to block.

At that moment, deep inside Nico, in the places she never went, something woke, and the wailing demon panic exploded all around her.

T
he outside of the duke’s citadel was utter chaos when Eli, Miranda, and the elder Monpress finally emerged from the tunnels below. Soldiers were running everywhere, carrying rope and spears, far too busy to notice three people in the shadows as they rushed to get to the square. Squinting into the dark, Miranda could see why. Even from this angle, she could see the cobblestones moving like waves, chasing something she couldn’t see. There were clouds overhead as well, winds ripping across the sky, forming a tiny tornado right in front of the citadel. From the top battlements, she could hear the duke shouting orders, his voice carried far and wide by the spinning wind. He was shouting for them to catch something.

“Ah,” Monpress said, locking the door again behind them. “Splendid.”

“Splendid?” Miranda said, looking in horror as a sheet of roofing tiles flew off a nearby house at whatever was circling in the front courtyard. “This is utter madness.”

“Chaos is the thief’s best friend,” Eli said with a shrug. “Where’s our ride?”

“Busy, from the looks of it,” Monpress said, pointing at the courtyard.

“Ride?” Miranda said. “Do you mean—”

She cut off midsentence as Gin appeared around the corner, followed by a hail of clay roofing tiles. He was running full tilt. They barely had time to jump out of the way before he barreled past. He gave Miranda a wink as he flashed by, and she saw at once what he was planning.

“Get in a line against the wall,” she said, jerking Eli’s chain and pushing Monpress with her other hand. “Be ready to jump on when I say so.”

“Jump on?” Eli said. “You mean throw ourselves at the dog when he comes around again?”

“Pretty much,” Miranda said, hiking up her skirt and tucking it under her belt so it wouldn’t get tangled. “Get ready, here he comes.”

They all whirled to look at Gin. He was still running full tilt away from them with the stones right on his tail. But just as he was about to hit the tall bank that separated the castle grounds from the river, he dropped to a crouch and skidded to a stop. The stones, not made for high-velocity anything, sailed straight over him, landing with a splash in the river beyond. The moment they were over his head, Gin was back on his feet racing toward Miranda. She held out her hands, motioning for Eli and Monpress to do the same. The ghosthound ran low, and as he passed they grabbed on to the thick fur of his back. Gin’s momentum took them off their feet, and suddenly they were flying along with him down a side alley while the wind howled overhead.

“Letting yourself play decoy,” Miranda said, digging her fingers in a little harder than was necessary as she climbed into position on his back. “That was a foolish thing to do, dog.”

“Well, hello to you too,” Gin panted. “Ask the old man if we’re still going for the wall.”

Miranda glared at him, but turned and relayed the question to the elder Monpress, who was helping Eli get into place.

“So far as I know,” he said. “I haven’t heard anything from Josef or Nico.”

“You probably won’t,” Eli said, grabbing Gin’s fur with both hands as the dog raced through the night. “Even if he sent a message, we’d never get anything through all this mess. I can barely hear myself think with the town like this.”

He was right, Miranda thought with a grimace. The whole town seemed to be shouting all at once. And not just spirits, but guards and alarm whistles too. Gin had his ears back as he ran, taking a crazy path through the back alleys as he ran north and a little west, toward the wall.

“Wait,” Miranda shouted. “We’re escaping? What about my rings? I can’t leave without my rings!”

“We can’t go back for them now,” Eli shouted over the din. “Not unless you want to fight the entire town.”

“The duke took your rings?” Gin panted, alarmed.

“No, I think Hern did,” Miranda answered. “We have to go back.”

“Well, look at it this way,” Eli said. “Now that you’re out, those rings are the only power this Hern fellow has over you. He’s certainly not going to risk them on something trivial.”

“Oh, that’s comforting,” Miranda said, bending low on Gin’s back. But the thief had a point. They couldn’t turn around, not without getting killed. She didn’t like it, but for now she’d get out, maybe try and make contact with the West Wind, get some backup. Maybe she could get word to Banage. Even if it came from an exile, the Spirit Court couldn’t ignore something like this, and then the duke would
really
have something to worry about. Of course, she thought as she ducked under a shop sign that was swinging wildly at her head, they’d have to get out first.

Gin hopped over a low shed, and suddenly they were at the wall, still stretched to an impossible height and bristling with spikes. They ran along it, looking for some sign of Josef and Nico, a bashed-in bit of wall, some knocked-out guards, anything, but there was nothing. Gin slowed, panting, and sniffed the air.

“No good,” he growled. “Neither the swordsman nor the girl has been anywhere near this place for hours.”

“They’ve got to be somewhere,” Eli said, looking around frantically. “It’s not like Josef to be late for anything.”

“Well, something must have happened,” Gin snapped back, “because he’s not here, and we shouldn’t be much longer. This city’s on the verge of tearing itself apart trying to do that man’s bidding. I’d hate to see what it’d do to us.”

“Wait,” Miranda said suddenly, her eyes bright. “Hold on, you just gave me an idea.” She stood up on the dog’s back, looking out over the dark city. The streets glowed, some with lampposts, some with torch light from the pursuing guards, but in the distance, the river glittered dark and slow, strangely peaceful in the light of the half moon.

“Gin,” she said, “we’re going back to our first plan.”

“What?” he said, then he paused. “Oh, I get you.” Miranda nodded. “Take us to the river.”

“The river?” Eli cried as Gin launched himself back the way they had come. “Are you mad? The river’s at the center of the mess we’re trying to get out of!”

“You want to solve a problem,” Miranda said, “you start at the top. Now be quiet.” She jerked the chain holding them together. “Prisoners shouldn’t talk this much.”

The elder Monpress laughed at that and tipped his head to Miranda, who smiled back. Eli, seeing he was getting nowhere with these people, folded his arms over his chest and focused on not falling off as Gin wove a crazy path down to the river.

The Duke of Gaol stood on his battlements, shouting orders to his spirits as the lampposts signaled the ghosthound’s position. They had reached the wall already, but were turning back, probably realizing they were trapped.

Good, he thought. Let them scramble. He had other problems at the moment, starting with the one standing directly beside him.

“For the last time, Hern,” Edward said, “go back to your tower.”

Beside him, Hern went pale with anger, gripping the battlements with clenched fingers. “I will not,” he said. “You promised me, Edward! You promised to keep that girl locked up, and then you go and throw her together with Monpress? What were you thinking?”

“If anyone should be angry, it’s me.” He glared at the Spiritualist. “Helping you almost cost me my thief. If I hadn’t taken precautions by keeping the city secure on multiple levels, both of our quarries would have flown by now. So save your bluster for your Court and kindly get out of my way. In case you haven’t noticed, I have other problems besides Monpress slipping his leash.”

As if on cue, a wind rose up from the south, and he turned to meet it.

“Othril,” he said when he felt the wind on his face. “Report.”

“The south docks are in a full demon panic,” the wind said quickly. “Big one, too, though not as flashy as the treasury. I put up a quarantine as you ordered. Not even a cockroach is going to cross the boundary without your say-so. That should contain the panic somewhat, but you know we can’t keep a lid on these things for long.”

“We won’t need to,” Edward said. “This is a ploy by Monpress, a distraction for his escape. Now that he’s out, it should be calming down.”

Hern shook his head. “What kind of reckless idiot uses a demon panic to cover his escape?”

“When you hunt Monpress, you must be prepared for everything,” Edward said. “Othril, follow Monpress and the Spiritualist girl. Now that they’ve realized the wall is trapped, they might try the river.”

“That would be good for us,” the wind said. “Fellbro’s water will catch them like flies in honey.”

“With Monpress you can only corral, never anticipate,” Edward said. “Watch him and report to me at once if they change direction.”

“And check for the girl as well,” Hern added. “She must be contained.”

Othril stopped midgust, and Hern felt the strange, itchy sensation of a powerful wind spirit staring at him. Edward, however, waved the wind away, and it blew into the night.

“Hern,” Edward said when the wind was gone. “Never presume to give orders to my spirits again.”

“Well,” Hern said, shifting his hands so that his rings glittered menacingly, “you hadn’t mentioned it, and I wanted to be sure you did not forget what you owed me, Edward.”

The duke spun around and grabbed Hern’s hands before the Spiritualist could move, squeezing his fingers until the gemstones dug painfully into Hern’s flesh.

“You forget yourself,” the duke whispered, his voice low and dangerous. “Never forget where you are. You might have sway in Zarin, but
I rule Gaol
. So long as you are on my lands, you obey
me
.”

Hern was gasping in pain, his rings flashing under the duke’s hands, but the duke’s spirit was like a vise across them, and they could not leave. He held the Spiritualist like that until Hern nodded, falling to his knees. Only then did Edward release his grip.

“Do not make me remind you again,” he said quietly, turning back to the battlements.

Hern retreated, grumbling empty threats under his breath as he slunk back to the far wall with as much dignity as he could muster. Edward ignored him. Hern’s lot was firmly entrenched in Gaol. He could alert the Spirit Court to Gaol’s activities, but it would mean the end of his own career as well, and Hern was far too selfish for that. That settled, Edward dismissed the Spiritualist from his mind, focusing instead on the blinking lamps that marked the ghosthound’s position as it ran a winding path through the back alleys of his city and toward the black line of the river.

Gin burst out of the cover of the narrow alley and onto the dock and turned sharply, leaving the pursuing hail of roofing tiles and weather vanes and other trash to soar out past him, straight into the river. Panting, Gin slowed down a fraction, bringing them right up beside the water, which flowed dark and murky in the flashing lamplight.

“We’re here,” the dog growled.

“Now what?” “Now we do what I should have done this morning,” Miranda said, getting into a crouch on his back. “Put control of the city back where it belongs, with the Great Spirit.” She glanced skeptically at the river as they ran along with it. It didn’t look like an enraged spirit, but maybe the duke had some kind of binding on it. Well, she thought, reaching back to tie her hair tight, she’d know in a second.

“I’ll meet you on the other side,” she said, scratching Gin’s head. “Don’t get caught.”

“Never do,” Gin snorted.

“Wait,” Eli said, tugging on the chain that connected them. “Before you do anything rash, aren’t you forgetting something?”

“Not that I can recall,” Miranda said, turning toward the river. She gave Eli one last smile. “Hold your breath.”

And then she jumped, taking Eli with her. For a moment they soared through the air, Miranda tucking gracefully, Eli flailing to keep his head upright, and then they landed with an enormous splash in the dark water. The moment they hit, Mellinor was there, surrounding them in a clear, bubbling flow, forming a protective pocket of air around them as they sank down into the muddy river. It was deeper than Miranda had expected, going down a dozen feet between the docks. All light from above vanished after the first foot, leaving only Mellinor’s own watery glow to light their way as they sank deeper, coming to rest on the black silt at the bottom.

Miranda stood inside the bubble Mellinor had made. Eli followed more slowly, shaking the water out of his hair.